Immediately after the Battle
by negativethursday
Summary: Ron and Hermione are sitting together after the battle when someone unexpected makes a confession. Two-shot, Romione.
1. Chapter 1

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Ron's hand squeezed Hermione's so tightly that it hurt, but she was squeezing his hand with the same intensity. Every inch of her was burning with fear as lights shot out from Harry's and Voldemort's wands. She wanted to close her eyes and run away, but she seemed to have lost control of all her body, because every ounce of energy she possessed was being used to crush Ron's hand.

And then the Elder Wand was soaring through the air, and as Harry reached his hand up, Voldemort's body fell back, falling onto the floor. Harry caught the wand in his hand, and everyone was silent for a moment, eyes moving from Voldemort's slumped form to Harry's arm, still in the air, and then Hermione felt Ron's hand moving, pulling her, though his grasp never slackened. They both ran from the crowd towards Harry, crying and screaming and shaking with relief. They tackled Harry from both sides, letting go of each other's hands to embrace him, and the three of them had a moment together, just the three of them, like it had always been and was always supposed to be, before they were surrounded by all the others. Everyone was crying and yelling and trying to get as close as possible to the three of them, all while Voldemort's body lay forgotten across the room, the only thing left in complete shadow even after the sun had fully risen.

The crowd dissipated, and Hermione saw Ron reach out his hand, but before she could reach it with her own, they were pulled off in different directions by the throng of people, and Hermione glimpsed Ron's vibrant hair for a few more seconds before he disappeared. She tried to push through the stream of people, but suddenly everyone was so interested in her, bringing her over to a table and sitting her down and firing rapid questions at her, too quickly for her to answer.

"What's the Elder Wand?"

"Where were the three of you all year?"

"How did Harry come back from the dead?"

"What was your secret mission?"  
"Is it true you broke into Gringotts yesterday morning?"

Hermione's head was spinning. Yesterday? Had it really only been yesterday, a mere 24 hours ago, that she was sauntering out of Shell Cottage as Bellatrix Lestrange? So much had happened since then, Hermione felt faint, thinking of it all. She had never before experienced this feeling, of knowing and remembering so much that she thought her head might burst. They had destroyed one, two, three Horcruxes in that time, and the same Bellatrix Lestrange whose appearance Hermione had taken on, whose wand she was using, had been killed by none other than Mrs. Weasley.

Weasley...Ron...she flexed the muscles in her hand, wondering if she might get a bruise. Ron had held her hand. Ron had kissed her…

But then his brother had died.

Hermione stood up, ignoring the complaints and suggestions of those sitting nearest her, with one thought standing out in her mind: she needed to find Ron. She needed to go to him and let him know that she was here. She didn't care if he broke all the bones in her hand this time, she would keep holding it for as long as he needed.

She scanned the hall several times and saw no sign of him, though she did see what seemed like everyone else. She even saw Harry and his own, larger group of admirers, each clamoring to get his attention and hear his story. She too was wondering exactly what had happened tonight, but she knew he would tell her eventually. Right now Ron was the most important thing to her. If only she could find him…there! Sitting right over there with…

To Hermione's great befuddlement and annoyance, a large group of girls was surrounding Ron, each one trying to outdo the other; grabbing his hands, attempting to smooth his hair, wiping dirt from his face. Even though Hermione couldn't hear them from this far away, she could almost feel the force of their combined giggling. She swallowed her anger as she made her way towards him. Didn't they know he had just lost a brother? Didn't they know he didn't want any of this? Didn't they know he was hers?

Her steps faltered as her mind stuck on that thought. Was he hers? Their kiss had been so spontaneous, and of course, in the middle of the battle, they hadn't had any time to discuss what any of it meant….if Ron wanted to discuss it, that was. Hermione had been the one that kissed him, after all. What if he only responded...only responded out of politeness? What if he really was enjoying the company of all these girls around him?

Hermione shook her head; she was being so completely stupid. She knew Ron, and she knew that right now Ron wanted these girls to leave him alone. It was written all over his face, clear as day. As for the rest of it, well, Hermione saw no need to press the issue any time soon. Her obligation at this moment was to her friend, and nothing more.

She made her way through the crowd, which took a lot more time than she had wanted because people kept stopping her to ask her questions or give her hugs. Finally, she stood on the edge of Ron's circle of girls, which had increased greatly during the time it had taken her to walk over. She stood there uncertainly, unsure if she should butt in or wait for the crowd to dissipate, and stuck her hands in her pockets while trying to ignore the sound of a dozen girls' ridiculous giggling.

Then Ron's eyes met hers, and it was like no one else existed. He didn't look away from her as he extricated himself from the jungle of hands surrounding him and brushed off their cries of dismay as he pushed through them. He came to stand in front of Hermione, so closely that she had to crane her neck to look up at him. She could see the pain and exhaustion in his eyes, but there was also an unmistakable glint of something she couldn't quite name, like the shadow of a smile. Hermione's throat felt unbearably dry.

"Hi," she managed to choke out.

"Hi," he said back, so low it sounded almost like a growl. Hermione swallowed.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go...sit down...somewhere."

"Yes." He said it with such absolute firmness that most of Hermione's doubts vanished. Most, but not all. She stretched the fingers on her sore hand, but Ron didn't move to hold it like he had before.

She turned and walked down the row of tables to the least populated corner of the room, and sat at the very edge of the table, and Ron sat immediately next to her, their legs touching. Hermione tried to think of something to say, but then she felt Ron's hand reach and hold hers, fingers interlaced, under the table. Hermione hesitated for a moment, and then leaned her head on Ron's shoulder. She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

There were a couple times that Hermione thought she had footsteps approaching them, but Ron would turn his head and give them a look that made it clear to leave them alone. Hermione was glad - she was exhausted, and she just wanted to be alone. Alone with Ron, that is.

Hermione closed her eyes, and she wasn't sure how long the two of them sat together like that. It seemed like there were so many things that were unsaid between them, and even though Hermione really wanted to talk about everything that had happened, she didn't want to ruin this perfect moment. She would let him come to her, like she had been waiting for him to do for the past three years.

Finally, just as Hermione began to feel sore, Ron spoke.

"Hermione." That was all he said, but his voice was filled with such emotion that the simple word spoke volumes.

He was silent for a moment, and then he spoke again.

"Hermione, after everything that's happened, I just want -" But suddenly he stopped. Hermione lifted her head from Ron's shoulder and immediately saw what had made him stop speaking so abruptly.

The Malfoys, who had been sitting at the other end of the table, had gotten up from their seats. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy seemed to be heading towards the door, but had stopped because, Hermione saw with a sickening jolt to the stomach, Draco had turned his back on his parents and was walking straight towards her and Ron.

Once again, Ron clenched Hermione's hand so tightly that she almost cried out in pain.

"Ron, it's okay," she said, trying to wrest her hand from his grip, but he gave no indication of having heard her.

Draco was getting closer, and Ron squeezed harder.

"Ron, really," Hermione tried again, and again got no response.

When it felt like he might start break bones, Hermione took out her wand and said "Relashio!" She pulled her hand away from Ron, and he looked at her confusedly.

"Huh? What'd you do that for?"

"Because you were crushing my hand, Ronald."

"Oh, sorry," Ron said, turning back to stare down Malfoy. "I can't believe that smarmy git's even here, if he tries to come talk to us I'll give him what he's got coming to him." Hermione knew better than to tell him off.

Malfoy made his way down the other side of the table and stopped when he was level with Ron and Hermione. Hermione tried to avert her gaze, but he was looking right at her.

"What are you doing here?" Ron sneered.

Malfoy didn't even look at him, he just kept looking at Hermione.

"I wanted a quick word with Granger, actually." Hermione thought she heard the shadow of his voice's usual oiliness, but more than anything he just sounded tired.

"Oh yeah?" growled Ron. "Well too bad."

"No Ron, it's fine," said Hermione quietly. She stood up, and Ron stood up too. Hermione turned her head away from Malfoy and looked at Ron.

"Ron, it's okay," she whispered.

"No it's not," said Ron, making no effort to lower his voice. "Do I need to remind you what happened last time you were with him?"

Hermione closed her eyes and pursed her lips. She took a deep breath.

"No Ronald, I remember it perfectly well without you having to remind me," she said. Instantly Ron's ears turned scarlet. He started to apologize, but Hermione held up her hand.

"I'm going to see what he wants, and I'll just be sitting a bit down the table. Nothing bad is going to happen. Just wait here." And she walked off before he could respond.

She and Malfoy walked down part of the table until they were out of earshot. Hermione seated herself with her back slightly to Ron, and she could feel his gaze on the back of her head. She could understand his trepidation, it just wasn't necessary. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

"So, what is it?" she said curtly to Malfoy. She wanted to get this over with quickly. She looked up and saw that Malfoy was now looking at the ground.

"Well, since this is all over now," Malfoy said slowly, "I just thought maybe it might be...an appropriate time for me to...tell you...how I feel." Hermione's mind was reeling, but she managed to keep her face calm.

"How you feel?" she asked coolly.

"Yeah. A-about you."

Hermione didn't say anything. Malfoy looked up at her.

"I think I'm in love with you. I think I always have been."

Hermione blinked.

"Well, this is certainly a surprise." On top of everything going through her mind, Hermione also felt smug about how calm she sounded. Then she looked in her lap and saw that her hands were shaking.

"Yeah, well, I know I haven't always, uh, been on the best terms with you -"

"Oh, is that what you want to call it?" From the surge of thoughts and emotions coursing through her, Hermione had picked out the one that dominated all others: anger.

Malfy stammered.

"You were absolutely beastly to us for six years, Draco!" Hermione said, her temper flaring. She could not remember the last time she had been this angry.

"That was because I didn't know how to deal with my feelings!" he said, turning red in the face.

"Oh, don't make me laugh!"

"It's true! I liked you so much, but I knew you hated me, so I -"

"What, did you think that all those times you got us in trouble or made fun of me or made my life miserable would bring us closer?"

"No, I just -"

"I know what I am to you, Draco!" Hermione seethed, and she rolled up her sleeve, exposing the partially healed marks on her forearm, given to her by the witch whose wand she was holding. Mudblood.

"I'm so sorry about that...about all of that…" Draco said, still trying to take control of the situation.

"You watched me being tortured!" Hermione spat.

Then several things happened at once.

Malfoy finally sounded defeated as he said, "Hermione, I'm so sorry," and began to move his hand towards Hermione's arm.

Hermione recoiled, partly because she didn't want Malfoy to touch her, but mostly because she was so surprised that he called her by her first name.

And a second later, a white flash hit Malfoy square in the face, and he brought both his hands to his face, which seemed to be swelling at an alarming rate.

Hermione had thought she couldn't be angrier, but when she turned to look at Ron, who was standing with his wand out and hurrying towards her, she felt absolutely livid.

"RONALD WEASLEY!" she shrieked, causing a few groups of people near them to look over. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?"

"Stinging jinx," Ron muttered when he reached her. "Wha happened? What was he doing? I just saw him move his arm and I thought he was going to -"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT YOU THOUGHT HE WAS DOING, I WAS HANDLING IT MYSELF."

"I just thought-"

But Hermione brushed off his words. She performed the counter jinx and hissed, "Be glad I didn't get to you first, Malfoy," before turning back to Ron, who was still talking.

"- and I didn't know if he had his wand and was going to -"

"Ron, I can take care of myself! I don't need you to try and protect me all the time!"

Then Hermione ran from the hall as fast as she could, wiping away the tears and tearing up the marble staircase, trying to find somewhere to get away.


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own this!**

Hermione ignored the questions and outreached hands of all the people she passed, and tore through the Great Hall and up the newly cracked marble staircase. Even though she wasn't making any conscious decision of where to go, her feet seemed to over as they traced the route that had once been so familiar to her. When she wiped away the tears that had been blurring her vision, she found herself in front of (where else) the library.

But this was not the library that Hermione had used and loved so much; the doors were hanging off their hinges, and books were strewn everywhere. Hermione felt another pang in her chest as she looked at the heaps of torn out pages that littered the corridor. She wanted to sit down right there and put all the books back together, but that would have to wait; right now Hermione felt drained, and wanted nothing more but to curl up in a ball and cry.

She clambered over the debris, doing her best to avoid stepping on the books that had taught her so much, and made her way through the familiar shelves. The farther she went in the library, the less severe the damage, until she reached the back corner of the library, which looked untouched. Hermione melted into one of the big armchairs and sobbed.

She wasn't exactly sure why she was crying - it felt like she had a million more reasons to be happy than to cry - but once she started, she couldn't stop. The state of shock that she had been in all night dissolved, and all the pain and loss sunk into her skin. It felt like she was crying for everything and nothing at the same time, and she couldn't make herself stop.

She wasn't sure when Ron came in, or how he even knew where she was, but next thing she knew, Ron was sitting on the armchair and he gingerly placed his arm around her. Even though she was mad at him, Hermione reached up and cried into his shoulder. He patted her back and smoothed her hair and whispered words in her ear that she couldn't understand. After awhile, Hermione's tears subsided, but she still clung to him, taking solace in the strength and warmth of his arms.

"Everything's alright, 'Mione," Ron whispered.

He had never called her that before, and it sent shivers down her spine. Ron was here. Ron was alive. That was all she needed, really, but somehow it had gotten complicated.

Hermione pulled away.

"Ron," she said, doing her best to gain control of her wavering voice, "I...appreciate your concern back there, but I can assure that it wasn't necessary."

Ron brushed that off. "Nevermind that. What was it he wanted to talk to you about anyway?"

Hermione bit her lip. On the one hand, she knew that telling Ron could have potentially disastrous results, and she didn't want to subject Malfoy to that, even if it was well deserved. On the other hand...Hermione suspected Ron wouldn't stop asking until she told him, and she couldn't deny that something had changed between them…

"You have to promise not to go ballistic," Hermione said, forcing a smile. Maybe if she treated it like a joke, he wouldn't take it too seriously.

Ron gave her his most innocent look. "Whatever makes you think I would go ballistic?" Hermione felt like she could get lost in those eyes, but pulled herself out if it just in time.

"If previous experience is any indicator, I have very good reason to think you would, er, overreact," Hermione said, trying to keep her tone casual.

"If you know that I'm going to go ballistic, why are you making me promise not to? That's just not fair," he said. Hermione could feel him slipping into the defensive tone that had prefaced so many of their arguments, several of which had happened in this very library. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but decided that he did have a point. If worst came to worst, she would stun him, before finding Malfoy and making it clear to him that he would be very sorry if he ever crossed paths with Ron Weasley again.

"Alright, alright, but do make an effort to control yourself, Ronald. This really isn't a big deal."

"I will."

"And don't forget, I'm still mad at you."

"Sure you are," he said, smirking. Hermione scowled. "Fine, fine, you're still mad at me. What else is new?"

Hermione smiled at that.

"So? What was it Malfoy said to you?"

Hermione took a breath.

"He just wanted to tell me that, er, that he...it's silly, really, I'm not even sure if I believe him, but he told me that he," Hermione closed her eyes, "was in love with me."

There was a moment of silence, and Hermione thought that maybe Ron would be okay, but then -

"HE WHAT?"

"Ron, really, I don't think he meant anything by it -" Hermione started, trying to cut Ron off before he got too upset, but it seemed too late for that. Ron's ears had turned scarlet and the rest of his face was following suit. He stood up, and Hermione was afraid she really would have to stun him, but he just started pacing, his hands running through his hair.

"WHERE DOES HE GET OFF," he bellowed, "SAYING THAT TO YOU? AND WHAT'S MORE, WHERE DOES HE GET OFF BEING IN LOVE WITH YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE?"

Hermione took a step back, affronted.

"Well excuse me if that concept is so preposterous to you!" she spat.

He softened immediately.

"No no no no no, 'Mione, I didn't mean it like that at all," he said, coming to her and grabbing her hands. She pulled away, and he sighed exasperatedly. "I just, it's just...he was there, wasn't he? And he was mean to you for so long and called you a you-know-what, and he was there, and he didn't help you!"

Hermione closed her eyes, and the scene that so often haunted her nightmares played before her eyes: a wrought iron gate, black marble walls, the silver glint of a knife as it carved the word into her skin. Fear, and pain beyond anything she had ever experienced, again and again and again. And he had been there. Hermione saw it all again now. Malfoy, crouched down next to her, looking at Harry and saying, "Maybe...yeah...it could be." Malfoy, standing on the edge of her vision, watching her and doing nothing to help her, when she was feeling the most intense pain she had ever felt, and screaming the loudest she had ever screamed.

Hermione felt her legs give out under her, and she fell to the floor. Immediately Ron was by her side, scooping her up into his lap and cradling her head, wrapping his arms around her and planting soft kisses on her forehead.

"Hermione, no...I'm so sorry…." he whispered. Hermione's eyes were still closed, but tears were making their way freely down her cheeks and coming to rest on Ron's shirt.

In her mind now, she saw Ron, crying desperately, "You can have me, keep me!" as he was dragged into the cellar. Over the sounds of her screams, she heard Ron yelling her name at the top of his lungs, and she had grabbed onto that sound and held onto it. And she did that again now, except now she was holding onto the sound of Ron whispering in her ear, and the inky black walls of Malfoy Manor grew lighter and lighter, smaller and smaller, until they disappeared completely.

Now she saw the light walls of Shell Cottage, and she was lying in bed, and Ron was standing next to her, trying to shove past Fleur, tying bandages around her and wiping the blood from her face. And when there was nothing else to do, he sat in the chair next to the bed and held her hand. "Hermione," he said, "I'm so sorry." Hermione remembered him sounding like he was on the verge of tears, so she mustered enough energy for a smile.

"Everything's alright, Ron. I'm here. We're both here."

"I know but -" He actually was crying now, "I was just so scared, I was so afraid that you were g-going to die, and I don't know what I would ever do without you, and I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, it should have been me, I should have made them take me, I should have saved you, but I didn't and I'm rubbish, and you were so b-brave and I was so scared."

"Ron," Hermione said faintly. She was fighting to remain conscious. "Ron...you did save me." He shook his head. "No, really...Ron...I heard you."

He looked up, his eyes shining with tears.

"You - you heard me?"

Hermione nodded slightly, and winced. Ron leaned forward and took her hand.

"I heard you," Hermione murmured, now half asleep. "You saved me."

Hermione didn't know what Ron said or did after that, but when she woke up the next morning, he was still sitting in the chair, his head resting on the edge of the bed, his hand still in hers.

And then Hermione saw a much younger Ron in her mind, standing on the Quidditch pitch, whirling on Malfoy and throwing up slugs. She she Ron jinx Malfoy for her and subsequently get detention for her in fourth year. She saw Ron burning with jealousy as she danced with Viktor Krum, while she pretended not to notice. Again and again she saw Ron's face, flushed with pride when he disarmed her in the first DA meeting, throwing her sideways glances while he was being broken up with by Lavender Brown, looking as upset as she felt when she told him about modifying her parents' memories. She briefly saw Ron's face, marred by frustration and anger as he threw down the locket and tore out of the tent, but that image was immediately replaced with Ron on the morning he came back, when he looked at her and smiled the widest smile she had ever seen.

With a great effort Hermione opened her eyes and looked up at the real Ron, the present Ron, the Ron who was here for her now just like he had always tried to be.

"Ron, about Malfoy," she said quietly, and she felt his fists clench. "I think it was really unnecessary for you to intervene. No, don't start again!" She could feel the roar building in Ron's throat, but he surprised her, and reduced it to a very angry growl.

"What, was I just supposed to sit there while I thought he was about to curse you?"

"He wasn't going to do anything of the -"

"Well, I didn't know that!"

"No, but I could have handled -"

"I know -"

"But really, I don't know why you thought you had to -"

"Hermione, you don't get it, do you?" His voice was rising again, and Hermione thought it best to get up herself before he tried to get up with her still in his lap. Hermione clambered back into the armchair and Ron sprung to his feet, pacing again.

"What don't I get?"

"Look, I know you can handle anything that he might have done - Hermione, you're brilliant, you're more brilliant than the whole lot of them. You are better than all of them - all of us put together. Harry could never have done this without you. I could never have gotten through bloody first year without you!"

Hermione's eyes widened but she didn't say anything. Ron continued.

"You know, now that I'm thinking about it, I'm not at all surprised that Malfoy's in love with you. I always thought that every bloke who lay their eyes on you ought to fall in love with you! You're perfect, you are! Smartest witch of the age, and caring and generous and -"

"And pretty?" Hermione squeaked.

Ron's eyes snapped to hers. "Pretty? Hermione, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen!" He returned to pacing. "And I know that would be completely lost without you, and I know that most of the time I'm lucky that you even talk to me, and I know that you could take every Death Eater and probably half a dozen You-Know-Whos at once and you would win every time, and I know that I need you more than anything and you don't need me at all! AND -" he went on over Hermione's protests, "And I know that you don't need me to protect you, and it kills me, because there's something in me that lives just to protect you! And so even though I know you don't need me, I just have to try, I always have to try because I love you more than anything and -"

But Hermione had gotten up from where she was sitting and walked up to Ron, and he stopped talking. It was hard to tell, because his face was red for so many reasons, but it almost looked as if he was embarrassed.

"You love me?" Hermione asked, in a voice barely above a whisper, and in a tone that could not be misunderstood.

"Yeah," Ron said, just as quietly but still firm and resolute. "Yeah, I do."

Hermione smiled, and tried to think of something to say, but for the first time, her mind was coming up blank.

So she kissed him, just as passionately as before, but this one was slower, more deliberate, the kind of kissing people do when they have all the time in the world. Ron wrapped his arms around her and she ran her fingers through his hair and Hermione felt lighter than a cloud.

But right before she lost herself completely, Ron pulled away.

"Do you…?" Ron asked, giving her a questioning, almost pleading look. And Hermione realized what she had forgotten to say.

"Yes," she whispered, and kissed his ear, his jaw, his neck. Then she looked up at him. "Yes, I believe I have for quite some time." She blushed in spite of herself.

Ron looked as if someone had hit him over the head with a mallet.

"Quite...some time? Me? Are you sure?"

She laughed. "Yes, Ronald, you. It's always been you."

Ron's mouth formed the sloppiest grin she had ever seen, and he still looked utterly dazed and confused, so she grabbed his arm and began to lead him out of the library.

"Come on you, we should go find Harry," she said, smiling.

"Wha? Harry? Wha's he got to do with this?" Then he seemed to regain some of his senses. "I just want to be with you," he said in a low whisper that she more felt than heard.

"Yeah, well…" she said, legitimately flustered. "Well, there's plenty of time for that later. Time to talk, I mean."

"Oh, of course," Ron said, adopting a serious tone. "Talking. Very important." And before she could say anything, Ron spun her around and kissed her lightly, and allowed himself to be led out the library.

And so they walked together, hand in hand, and took the long way down to the Great Hall.


End file.
